


Sherlock MxM One-Shots

by sophia_m



Series: Fandom One-Shots [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Mush, M/M, Minor Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-24 05:43:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9705761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophia_m/pseuds/sophia_m
Summary: A series of one-shots, ranging in length and content about the different male x male pairings in the Sherlock fandom. There'll be a AUs which are canon divergence and some are set in completely different AUs. I'll add relationships/characters as I write them but I think I got most in the tags already. And while it says one-shots it will mostly be short drabbles.





	1. First Kiss (Sherlock x Greg)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts theme was 'Firsts'

"I take it you solved another?" Greg asks, sitting back in his chair with a tight smile as Sherlock rushes into his office. The consulting detective nods, dropping the case file and evidence bag onto his desk with a smirk. "Three year cold case, gave it to you last night and you already solved it huh. So who did murder her?"

"The husband's brother. Obviously. It became clear to me within forty-eight minutes but I am not surprised that Scotland Yard missed everything of importance." Sherlock flames down at the papers on Greg's desk, a small frown appearing on his face. "Which case is that?"

Greg's brow furrows as he quickly re-reads the papers. "Triple homicide, all male victims and there's currently no suspect and there also doesn't seem to be a connection between the victims. Or at least one that Scotland Yard has yet to find." Shrugging, Greg runs a hand through his hair, sighing quietly. "As of right now, we're lost with this case. It only happened Tuesday night."

Turning the papers towards him, Sherlock scans them quickly. "We're they all murdered in the same fashion?"

"Um... I'm pretty sure they were each shot once in their hears." Greg replies, watching Sherlock closely. 

"It was Dylan Cruise, the third man. The other two were shot in the back of their heads while Cruise was shot in his temple. The connection: Cruise was the ex-boyfriend of Jamison, who started an affair of sorts with Xianter. Cruise murdered them in a jealous with help from Xianter's ex-boyfriend; afterwards Cruise shot himself  out of shame and guilt." Sherlock explains, then pauses in thought. "You didn't find the gun because Xianter's ex took it and disposed of it. If you can figure out who the ex-boyfriend was, you'll be able to find the murder weapon."

Greg nods silently, the usual feeling of disbelief at Sherlock's mind building in his chest. Sherlock takes a small step back, his hands clasped behind his back, without saying a word. In most occurrences, Sherlock can't wait to leave Greg's office but as he remains in the room, concern fills Greg. Standing from his chair, Greg walks around his desk to stand in front of Sherlock. 

"Are you alright?" Greg asks with worry evident in his voice. "Do you want another case? I can probably find another cold case for you if you give me a few minutes."

"I don't want a case." Sherlock response nervously before leaning forward, pressing his lips to Greg's. It takes only a moment before Greg realizes what the genius is doing and starts to kiss back. The kiss only lasts a few seconds then the two men are stepping apart. 

"What was that for?" With a small exhale, Greg leans against his desk, his face is uncharacteristically red. 

Sherlock's widen momentarily. "I was informed that when you have feelings for someone, kissing them is acceptable. Was I wrong in assuming that?" Greg shakes his head, stammering out that the kiss was acceptable. Doing a small bounce on the balls of his feet, Sherlock's smirk from earlier returns.  "Wonderful. I'll pick you up at 6 o'clock for dinner. Have a good day, Goeff."


	2. Baker Street (Sherlock x Greg)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts theme was 'London'

"Thanks Mrs. Hudson." Greg steps inside the apartment with a smile to the landlady. Taking the steps two at a time, he rushes upstairs, his heart pounding in his chest. The doors to the main room and kitchen are both open and a rush of fear surges in Greg. "Sherlock?" He calls out in a panic as he steps inside.

From where he's curled up in his chair, Sherlock raises his head to meet the DI's eyes with a slight scowl. A small wave of relief helps Greg to partially relax as he moves further into the room. "Why are you here?" Sherlock mutters before lowering his head back down. "Mrs. Hudson called you, didn't she?" He answers his own question with a roll of his eyes. A small groan slips from Sherlock's mouth, sending a chill down Greg's spine.

"Yeah she saw Mycroft drop you off and become worried about you." Pulling a chair up to Sherlock's, Greg grabs Sherlock's hands in his. "Her call scared me, nearly fainted. Now be honest with me Sherlock, what did you take?" Greg questions Sherlock quietly, rubbing his thumb over the back of the genius' hands.

"Just cocaine." Sherlock's eyes flutter close and it takes a shout of panic from Greg for him to open them again. "I'm fine, slightly exhausted but I'll live." He tries to sit up but Greg gently pushes him back down.

With a sigh, Greg stands, "Rest for a while, or at least try to. I'm going to pick up your flat. Never seen it this messy before." He comments as he glances around the room. Sherlock nods without a word, pulling his jacket tighter around his shoulders. "Don't scare me like that again." Greg adds but Sherlock’s already gone.

Entering the kitchen, Greg rubs a hand over his face with a sigh as he sees the mess that greets him. Despite only ever seeing the genius eat a total of four times in the last week, the sink id full of dirty dishes as are the countertops. Starting with the dishes, Greg hurries to a set a cycle for the dishwasher before he begins wiping down any kitchen surface he thinks requires a cleaning. As he checks Sherlock's fridge, he's surprised but glad to find some healthy food inside but the severed head makes him recoil. Muttering to himself, Greg moves back into the main room, watching Sherlock sleep with fond eyes. A moment passes before he starts to pick through the mess on the floor. Clothes, dirt, plastic wrappers. Greg wouldn't be surprised if he finds another body part or two buried underneath everything.

Sherlock's still sleeping an hour later as Greg finishes cleaning up the room but now with more of his body off the chair than on it. Rolling his eyes, Greg carefully moves Sherlock to the couch, pressing an affectionate kiss to his curls before returning to the kitchen to grab something to eat. Avoiding the severed head in the fridge, he grabs an apple from the table and leaning against the counter as he take a bite. He turns his eyes to Sherlock.

221b Baker Street. Greg find himself surprised at what he's started to think of this place, of what it means to him. He's been spending more time here with Sherlock than at his own place in the recent week; spending nights crashed on the couch and waking up with a kink in his neck, having tea once or twice a week with Mrs. Hudson, talking about cases with Sherlock as he plays his violin, placing Chinese orders arrive here on his way home from work. It takes a moment for the fact that Greg just mentally called this flat 'home' to register and as it does, it leaves Greg's ears burning. Is Baker Street home to Greg? It sure feels like it sometimes. Well he ever tell Sherlock that? Maybe.

Tossing the apple core into the trash, Greg enters Sherlock's room to grab a blanket. As he comes back to the main room, Greg carefully drapes the blanket over Sherlock. A sign escapes Greg's mouth as he starts to leave but as cold yet soft fingers wrap around his wrist, he turns back.

"Stay?" Sherlock asks, eyes soft and body relaxed.

Greg nods, allowing Sherlock to shuffle over so there's enough space for the older man to lay down against him. "Thank you." Greg whispers against Sherlock's hair.

"For what?" Sherlock asks curiously, already half asleep.

"For letting me stay." Is what Greg says.

And for giving me a home. Is what Greg wants to add but he doesn't. Instead he just closes his eyes and holds Sherlock just a bit closer.


	3. Scarf (Sherlock x Greg)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts theme was 'Clothes'

As he steps out of the taxi, Sherlock pulls his jacket around himself before tying his scarf around his neck. The rest of Greg’s team is already there and as usual they ignore the consulting detective. Even Anderson and Donovan don’t say anything insulting towards him, let alone glance in his direction. Lifting the tape, he ducks underneath it, entering the crime scene. Greg is already kneeling beside the body and hearing Sherlock’s footsteps, he looks up to greet him with a nod. “Grant.” Sherlock returns the nod with one of his own, downwards to the body. “What is it?”

Greg starts to open his mouth to reply, both to the question and wrong name but as his eyes focus on Sherlock’ scarf, his breath catches in his throat. The contrast of the dark coloured fabric against Sherlock’s pale skin suddenly turns Greg’s mouth dry as he absentmindedly licks his lips. Clearing hi throat, Greg quickly stands to his feet, pulling his gaze from the scarf to meet Sherlock’s eyes. He starts to explain what they know so far but Sherlock isn’t listening; he’s focused on how the DI keeps tugging at his collar, rubbing the back of his neck, rubbing his fingers through his hair, licking his lips and the way every time he makes eye contact with him he quickly looks away. Realizing that Sherlock isn’t listening. Greg tails off but it takes a moment for Greg to realize that Sherlock is staring at him. Feeling himself start to grow hot and uncomfortable underneath Sherlock’s eyes, Greg turns his eyes to the ground. Of course Sherlock managed to deduce Greg’s sudden arousal towards him within one look.

Still unable to meet Sherlock’s eyes, Greg gestures back to the body. Sherlock nods, blinking as he moves his focus back to the body. Narrowing his eyes, he asks Greg to repeat his information on the murder. Greg does so, his face still burning with embarrassment. “It was the half-brother. Obviously.” Rolling his eyes, Greg smiles to himself. “Scotland Yard’s skills and standards seem to be lowering every case. Perhaps you’ve become too dependent on me Greyson.”

“Alright Sherlock, thanks for your help.” Greg rolls his eyes, tensing up ever so slightly as his eyes move back to the scarf. _Stop that. Stop undressing him with your eyes._ Greg mentally scolds himself as Sherlock raises an eyebrow with a barely suppressed smirk. Coughing awkwardly, Greg rubs his back of his neck. “Thanks Sherlock.” He repeats himself, his eyes unable to move away from Sherlock’s scarf until he feels his pants start to uncomfortably tighten.

“Are you feeling Graham? You’ve turned red, your pupils have become dilated, and your voice cracked as you just said my name and- Lestrade!” Sherlock calls out as the DI turns away from him and becomes to walk away from the crime scene. Suddenly feeling concerned, Sherlock quickly runs after Greg while calling out again. As Sherlock manages to catch up with Greg, he grabs him by his wrist. “Did I do something?” Sherlock asks, worried he may of missed some sort of social cue or angered Greg by using his deduction skills on him.

Clicking his tongue, Greg nods. “Yeah you did do something. Coming to my crime scene dressed like that.” Greg jerks his hand free from Sherlock’s grip to wildly gesture at his partner. Sherlock frowns, glancing down at himself in confusion. Before he can question what Greg means by that, Greg is continuing, “Driving me crazy, can’t even think straight.”

Reaching up, he grabs the ends of Sherlock’s scarf, wrapping them around his hands with a small growl to pull the younger man down to him. Pressing his lips to Sherlock’s, he tighten his grip on the scarf in a successful attempt to tug Sherlock closer to him. Sherlock makes a small noise of protest while creating a quick note in his memory of what the scarf does to Greg and to start wearing it more often to crime scenes, before beginning to hesitantly return the kiss.


	4. Quiet (Sherlock x Greg)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts theme was 'Contradictions'

Greg is slouched over on the couch, half sleep with a case file slipping from his hands. Sherlock is pacing around the room, reading over papers from the same case with a frown forming on his lips. Re-reading a note Donovan made, his frown deepens in frustration. He turns to Greg, about to ask for clarification when he sees the state Greg is in.

Setting the case files on his desk, Sherlock grabs the one Greg was reading before it can falling and it stacks it onto his. Watching Greg for a brief moment, his frown fades in favour of a small smile flickering over his lips before he disappears into his bedroom. The sound of rushed movement in the bedroom gently rouses Greg from falling asleep. Rubbing his eyes with a small yawn, Greg slowly sits up with a glance around the flat, looking for his partner.

Sherlock reemerges from his bedroom, a set of blankets folded over his arm. Greg faintly smiles up at Sherlock, shuffling over to make room for Sherlock to settle down beside him. Sitting beside Greg, Sherlock hesitantly rests his head against his shoulder. Pulling the blankets from Sherlock, Greg carefully unfolds them and drapes them over both of their bodies, his arm resting on top of the blanket, around Sherlock’s shoulder.

“Did you solve the case?” Greg asks, his voice soft from his fatigue.

“I thought I did but Donovan’s note threw me off. Didn’t make sense, so now there’s two possible suspects.” Sherlock smiles to himself as Greg’s fingers start combing through his hair. “If the brother is right-handed arrest him, if he is left-handed than the mother committed the murder.”

“Bloody brilliant.” Greg grins down at Sherlock before pressing a kiss to the top of his head in a moment of affection. Outside of these walls, signs of affections like these will rarely ever happen, a quick kiss to the cheek at the most, but in the rare moments when they’re alone... “No idea how which hand he rights with can help you figure out the murderer and it’s amazing.”

Sherlock tilts his head up against the palm of Greg’s hand as the older man ceases in his petting. Laughing softly, Greg resumes brushing his hands through the dark hairs. “Thank you.” Another rare moment only ever shared between these two men when alone.

Greg gently pulls Sherlock closer to his side with a small hum, his heart tightening with love at Sherlock’s thanks. Sherlock turns his body further towards Greg’s, resting his head on Greg’s chest; the DI’s steady heartbeat combined with his petting helping Sherlock to relax.

Both men stay like that as the sun begins to set, half asleep in each other’s arms, with the occasionally kissing from Greg.  


	5. Hair (Sherlock x Greg)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts theme was 'Things on a Body'

Gently brushing his fingers over his hair, Greg watches himself in the mirror with a frown. Poking his head out of the bathroom to make sure Sherlock is still asleep, Greg quietly closes the door and turns the fan on. The box of hair dye rests on counter and it takes a few seconds for Greg to work up the courage to open it. Turning the contents over in his hands, his frowns deepens. _Will it work?_ Greg thinks to himself, reaching up to once again run his fingers through his hair. _Or will it make Sherlock leave faster? No he wouldn’t, would he? Well it is only a matter of time until he realizes how-_

“Lestrade?” Sherlock’s voice cuts Greg from his train of thoughts. He hadn’t heard the door open or even seen Sherlock in the mirror. Sherlock repeats himself with a frown and it only make Greg feel worse. Taking the dye products from Greg’s hands, Sherlock places them in the trash before gently closing his hands around Greg’s to lead him from the bathroom.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Greg rubs a hand over his face in shame. Sherlock not going to say anything, he’s going to grab his things and leave. “Don’t leave, just wait… let’s talk.” Greg whispers.

“Why would I leave?” Sherlock sits besides Greg. Greg shrugs helplessly, unable to meet Sherlock’s eyes. “What were you doing? And why?” He adds after he realizes the Greg isn’t going to answer his first question. Sherlock knows the answer before he asks the question but he needs to hear it from Greg’s mouth.

“Fixing my hair.” Greg mutters. Sherlock repeats himself again, his voice taking on a hard edge. “I’m old Sherlock, a lot older than you. You could have anyone yet you chose someone 10 years your senior and I don’t know why. You’re still young and fresh, I’m greying, growing soft, I can barely keep up with you now.”

Sherlock scoffs making Greg look up. “I was starting to think perhaps you’re not the idiot I thought you when I first meet you but it seems that I was wrong.” He smiles faintly as Greg lets out a quiet ‘oi’ in protest. “I know you’re ten years my senior but I don’t care. Your hair is a part of...”

Sherlock starts to reach out to touch Greg’s hair but when the older man closes his hand around Sherlock’s wrist, he drops it back to his lap. “Sunshine don’t.” The pet name is strained, as though Greg doesn’t fully mean it and it makes Sherlock flinch. “Please just don’t. Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not.” Sherlock snaps, straightening up with his hand moving back to Greg’s hair. Curling his fingers in the grey strands, he pulls Greg’s head up to meet his eyes. “I’m not lying. If anything you look distinguished with this greying hair." Sherlock comments but it still make Greg wince. Sherlock suddenly feels worried. Did he say something wrong? He thought what he said was a compliment. Wasn't it? 

"Sherlock," Greg starts weakly, "you're going to leave. You can have a young, intelligent attractive man or woman not me. I'll be having a desk job in no time, and I'll just get _softer_ and older; your brother's compared me to a goldfish and perhaps he's right. And it's not like you call me smart, a blind idiot who can't solve a case on his own is one of you favourites if I'm not mistaken." Greg voice cracks quietly and again Sherlock feels worse about himself. He did this. He never compliments Greg or shows his love and now it's lead the man to think Sherlock is going to leave him. 

Sherlock doesn't apologize. Unless it's for Greg. "I'm sorry." Sherlock croaks out with his hand still resting in Greg's hair, only now gently petting and threading his fingers through the strands. "I never realized I made you feel like this and I'm sorry. You're not too old for me, sometimes I think you'll be the one to leave me. For someone who's not a sociopath and knows how to interact with other people without being rude or abrasive or egotistic."

"So we're both insecure bastards who don't know how talk about our feelings?" Greg cracks a smile, a hand resting on Sherlock's knee. Sherlock nods shyly, moving his hand back down. "Let's go to bed." Greg offers before pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of Sherlock's mouth. 


	6. Experiment (Sherlock x Greg)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts theme was 'Science'

"Gavin?" Greg rolls his eyes at Sherlock's voice and stands to his feet, looking away from the body to rest his eyes on the genius. Before Greg can say anything, Sherlock's grabbed the collar of Greg's jacket, pulling him into a kiss. It doesn't last long maybe a total of five seconds but it leaves Greg red and breathless. Pressing his forefinger and middle finger to the pulse point in Greg's wrist, Sherlock nods in thought. "Increased heartbeat, dilated pupils, flushed face, you've become aroused. I was correct."

"Correct in what?" Greg asks with narrowed eyes. "Sherlock what are you talking about?"

Sherlock meets Greg's eyes but there's a hint of fear in them. In a raremoment of worry and weakness, Sherlock inhales gently. "In the last few days, since the Anderson-Bornkarine Case, I have noticed that you have an attraction towards me and in another case I've been working on, it's become transparent that the sexual attraction men experience is instrumental in solving the case. So by kissing you, I was trying to collect enough evidence to figure out who committed the murder." Sherlock explains. Greg's eyes widen a fraction of an inch but it's enough for Sherlock to realize he said the wrong thing. 

"You used me as an experiment?" Greg hisses through gritted teeth. Folding his hands behind his back, Sherlock goes to take a step back but Greg's grabbed his shoulders in a tight grip and is dragging him into the alley, away from the now curious gazes of his team. "Sherlock, I want a straight answer right now. Did you use my attraction towards you for an experiment in an attempt to solve a case?" He growls, his voice dropping dangerously low. 

Sherlock nods. And in anger, Greg tightens his grip making Sherlock wince. Realizing his mistake, Greg quickly drops his hands to his side but the anger in his face and posture is still here. Taking a deep breath, Greg steps away until his back is resting against the opposite wall. "Well was it worth it? Did you collect enough data to solve your case? How many other men did you just randomly kiss?" 

"No one." Sherlock protests. Again the wrong thing to say. 

"So I was the lucky one. At least you'll be able to solve a murder right?" Greg laughs bitterly. And now Sherlock has to backtrack and deny his earlier statement. Muttering a quiet 'there was no murder case' he hopes Greg doesn't hear but the DI does. "Bloody fantastic you bastard. Get out of this crime scene now and don't come to any others. If I need your help I'll call you." 

Wait. That wasn't supposed to happen. Sherlock reaches out before he thinks, grabbing Greg's hand which only worsen the feelings in Greg's chest. "It was an experiment, just not for a case. I just wanted-"

"Wanted to see how a man reacts to someone he's attracted to just randomly kissing him." Close enough. Sherlock nods. Taking another deep breath with his eyes closed, Greg wants to yell at Sherlock if he didn't hear him and to go away but when he opens his eyes and sees Sherlock's 'kicked puppy' eyes, his anger melts away. "Sherlock, I'm sorry I yelled but you have to see how this looks and feels. You show up here and randomly kiss me, in front of my entire team, then you pass it off as an experiment you created when you were probably just bored. And that fact that you know I'm attracted to you, just makes it hurt more Sherlock." Greg confesses with a half-hearted smile.

Sherlock nods helplessly before walking out of the alley. "I'll text you once I figured out who did it. And don't worry I won't come to any other of your case unless you call. I'm sorry Greg." He apologizes again but Greg misses the apologize and correct name in favour of resting his forehead against the cold wall. Retreating into his mind, Sherlock wants to make himself forget the failed experiment but he can't, he'll need this information for step 2. 


	7. Back-Up (Sherlock x Greg)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts theme was 'Policing'

How did he miss it? How could he have missed it? The woman showed every sign of being the murderer, matched Sherlock's deduction perfectly but even after having questioned her himself, Greg still missed it. And now she had a gun trained on Sherlock’ head and fear is controlling Greg’s mind, paralyzing him. It takes a moment for Greg to clear his thoughts of panic and begin to think clearly, but by then Donovan’s already barked an order to the rest of team and is pulling her gun out. Greg quickly follows her, pulling his own gun out; the woman- seeming to finally notice the position she’s placed herself in- panics and shoves Sherlock away from her while slamming her gun down against the back of his head before she takes off running.

Sherlock stumbles forward a few feet and holstering his gun, Greg rushes to grab him before he can hit the ground but with a shake of his head, Sherlock straightens up and is running after the woman. Calling out after Sherlock, Greg has another fleeting sense of panic as the genius disappears from his view. Shouting over his shoulder to Donovan that he’s going after Sherlock, he runs after Sherlock, shouting out his name again.

He can see Sherlock a street ahead of him, his coat flapping behind him, but his movements are staggered and to anyone without contexts, Sherlock would appear drunk or high. The gun must have done more damage to Sherlock’s head than it looked like it. Greg thinks to himself as he hazardously runs across a street, narrowing avoiding a car. Turning a corner, he crashes into Sherlock’s back.

The genius is standing in the middle of the sidewalk, head in hands, swaying from side to side. “I lost her.” He mutters, lifting his head to meet Greg’s eyes. “She disappeared, can’t see her.”

Greg sighs quietly, putting an arm around Sherlock’s shoulders. “It’s fine. We know her name, address, phone number and any other information we might need to track her down.” Greg gently presses an open hand to the back of Sherlock’s head, wincing at the feelings of the wet curls and when he pulls his hand back, there’s blood on his palm. “What were you thinking?” Greg scolds Sherlock softly, not feeling anger but just a numbing sensation of worry.

Sherlock frowns at the DI, “She took off running, I was just trying to get her. What did I do wrong?”

“You took off running after an armed murderer without anyone who could help if she did something. What if she decided to shoot you? Who could’ve called it in? You’re unarmed and physically weak; your head is bleeding!” Greg shouts and as Sherlock flinches at the noise, he quickly lowers his voice. “You don’t going running after a murderer without back-up.”

Rolling his eyes, Sherlock tries to take a step forward but falters with a small groan. “I may have a concussion.”

“You think.” Greg mutters sarcastically under his breath. Sherlock tries to say something, his mouth opening and closing, but nothing comes out. “Let’s go back, I’ll call an ambulance in for you.” He tries to pull Sherlock along with him but the genius is rooted in place. “Sherlock?” He looks over with a small frown.

“You said I need to have back-up if I go running after a murderer, but who would come after me? You’re team barely tolerate me.” Greg scoffs, tugging on Sherlock’s arm in an attempt to move him. Sherlock complies, allowing Greg to help him move. “Donovan may not have allowed her to shoot me but she still thinks I’m a freak, as do most of your team.”

Greg sighs, his eyes closing for a brief moment before looking up at Sherlock. “Next time you want to run after a murderer wait for me to be able to follow you. Or at least not right after you’ve been slammed in the head with a gun. Or I’ll kill you myself but being so reckless.”

He turns back to the road, helping Sherlock back to the crime scene, missing the small smile that plays on Sherlock’s lips.


	8. Sherlock x John

John tumbling through the warehouse door with a shout of ‘Sherlock’ and his gun raised, the safety clicked off. Through the smashed window, he watches the suspect run from the building until he turns a corner and fades from his vision.

A cough from the corner of the room draws John’s attention. Setting the safety back on, John drops the gun to the floor as he rushes to the crumpled figure of Sherlock. Kneeling beside the man, He manoeuvres Sherlock partly onto his lap, irritation flooding him at the recklessness of the genius.  

“You idiot.” John scowls down at the man in his arms. “What were thinking going and doing something like that? Running after an armed gunman who already tried to shot you.Are you insane?”

Sherlock’s eyes flutter closed for a brief second before he’s inhaling sharply, his hand pressing to his side. John carefully places his own hand overtop of Sherlock’s; his anger fading into worry and fear as he pulls it back. Pulling Sherlock closer to his chest with one hand, John struggles to grab his phone with other. He barely manages to send Lestrade a text of their location and situation before Sherlock’s coughing loudly, blood trickling from his mouth. He can’t remember the hearing a gun going off, having been fairly behind them but it doesn’t stop guilt from setting in.

“John.” Sherlock croaks out and it’s heartbreaking, John can’t stop the tears that begin to prick the corners of his eyes. “It was the step-brother.”

“You’ve been shoot and you’re still thinking about the case unb- woah Sherlock! Keep your eyes open okay.” John gently slaps Sherlock’s cheek, the genius’ eyes having begun to close again. “I texted Lestrade okay he’ll be here soon. Just keep your eyes open alright.”

Sherlock nods slowly, his eyes meeting John’s. “Why are you crying?” Sherlock frowns.

A dry laugh slips from John’s mouth as he reaches up with a bloodied hand to brush away Sherlock’s damp curls.”Cause you’ve been shot and now you’re bleeding in my arms, Sherlock. I think I got a right to cry damn it.” Sherlock nods again, his lips parting in an unspoken word before his head tilts back in John’s hand, eyes closing. ”No, no, no Sherlock! Don’t die on me oh God, please don’t die on me. Open your eyes Sherlock, please just open your eyes and look at me. Please God, just open your eyes, Sherlock, you’re going to be fine, just open your eyes.” John rambles on, tears blurring his visions the faint sound of sirens filling his ears.

Pressing his fingers to Sherlock’s pulse point, a numbing panic flashes through him. Leaning, John presses his ear to Sherlock’s chest, ignoring the blood. A weak pulse, not long left but it’s enough to give John hope to pray one last time. “Damn

“Damn it, Sherlock. You’ve already disappeared once, so don’t you dare do it again.” John breaths out to no one. “So please just-just hold on, just a little longer. It’s just a little longer, Greg’s gonna be here soon so, please… please hold on. For me.”


End file.
